


Stars At Night

by Transistors



Category: Original Work
Genre: POV First Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-23
Updated: 2018-05-23
Packaged: 2019-05-10 10:52:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14735589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Transistors/pseuds/Transistors
Summary: In the quiet night, I observe the stars, I stand, and wonder about everything bouncing within my head.





	Stars At Night

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a walk at night, where the stars looked pretty nice and reminded me of my the previous country I lived in.

It is when the night comes that I realize how lucky I am to be witness to a sight – little sparkles in the pitch black, the moon far from my gaze; yet I have no interest in the silver sphere floating on in the sky. I gaze more upon the dots that sprinkle across the black sky, hiding me in shadows even with the far away stars to keep me company.

There is no one else around me; no one to talk to me, not a single stranger wandering across the streets this late at night; no one to keep me company, to stop myself from thinking, yet I cannot bring myself to care. Years of me looking outside, catching sight of a lone star, or the light of a plane flying by at night – illusions of what seem to be sparkling little dots in the sky, calling to me, and making me wonder what type of world there is -

Is there a place where the night sky sparkles like glitter? I saw them all the time in TV; movies, shows, cartoons, something that always has seemed so far away from me. Breathing in the familiarity of the city, then fading away to a neighbourhood of houses and not flats – with an air that smells of nature, dirt and grass, and not of an overwhelming sand.

Neither are smells preferable, both making my nose twitch – too strong for me, yet smells I cannot identify. There are those who, when they leave and return, smell so much so like the outside yet I cannot put to words what that means.

Just like how I cannot put to words what it feels like to stand outside, shadowed by large, hanging trees, old and gloomy, bathed in the dark blue night, staring up into twinkling white lights amidst all the void that stares back down at us all.

Nothing glimmers over me, coating me in inkiness, yet I cannot bring myself to care. The only lights I have seen at night, for years, are the endlessly glowing insides of late night stores, of a hotel waiting for people to come in, of restaurants blaring bright with their lights, and now I stand here – isolated, alone, and I stare up into the sky.

There are many a people who will say, to you, that the stars are the souls of people far up there – perhaps some even believe in that; perhaps they are, perhaps they are not. Perhaps they are both scientific and spiritual, mixing together to glimmer slowly in its beauty, before they are quick to fade away.

I think of the life unexplored, with roads leading all around – to everywhere and nowhere, to blocks and bridges, and I wonder what it must be like to be on the road that you know the end to. I cannot say, I cannot assume, and I cannot hope to know soon, though I know something waits for me. I have dreams that I cannot see actualized; a quietude drapes over me.

There is no smile on my face. I take a sip of my drink, peer up at the stars for a little longer, then I tread on with my eyes straight forward and feet dragging softly across the pavement below. I walk on a path I know, barely illuminated by dinky street lamps, and I head on home, where my family waits for me, where a golden glow greets me, and I am warmed by the heater.

Perhaps, some day, I will be warmed by my own victory.


End file.
